The Man Behind the Curtain
by Hotch Fan
Summary: Even before the death of Martha and Thomas Wayne, there were times when Alfred had to go above and beyond a butler's duty when dealing with a young Bruce Wayne.
1. Storm

**The only reason I have for writing this is Alfred's awesomeness. That, and the imagen of an oddly** **uncomfortable Alfred dealing with an adorkable little Bruce, all the while maintaining his dignified and upright self.*nods*  
**

**I feel like I have to say that I'm not trying to portrait the Waynes as bad or negligent parents. Not at all. _But_ they both were _very_ important and busy people (especially Thomas Wayne) so I think there must had been times when they just _couldn't_ be there for young Bruce and Alfred stepped in. Because I think Alfred and Bruce must gotten along pretty well even then for the Waynes to leave his son's care entrusted to him, even if _they_ did trusted him.**

**********Lastly, I don't owe ****The Dark Knight trilogy **or any of its characters, sadly.

* * *

**OoOoO**

**Chapter I: Storm.**

Alfred walked quietly through the hallway, making his usual inspection around the house before retiring to rest for the night.

The whole staff had left for the day hours ago leaving the Manor in absolute silence, broken only by the gentle noise of the rain hitting against the window panes.

Martha Wayne had put youth Master Bruce to bed almost half an hour later than usual today, having consent to the young boy's request to wait for his father's return. It hadn't been until Thomas Wayne had called and talked to his son for a few minutes that Master Bruce had sullenly allowed his mother to lead him upstairs and to his bedroom.

Closing the door of the library softly behind himself, Alfred turned around and walked across the hall to the main study, his footsteps muted by the thick carpet.

With the young Master tucked into bed, Mrs Wayne and Alfred had exploit the quietness tidying up a few details for the upcoming charity fundraisers that would be hosted at Wayne Manor two weeks from now. She had bidden him good night after things were taken care of and retired upstairs.

That had been little over an hour ago.

The first thing that caught Alfred's attention when he pulled the door of the study open was the soft light coming from the desk lamp. It took Alfred's eyes only a second to be drawn to the small figure barely visible under the large mahogany desk.

"Master Bruce?"

There was a soft sigh, followed by some shifting under the desk and then Alfred caught a glimpse of hazel eyes in the space between the two visitor chairs.

"Hi, Alfred."

The butler reached for the light switch to his right and turned it on, filling the room with soft yellow light.

"What are you doing here, sir?" Alfred inquired softly, walking further into the room.

Bruce ducked his head slightly, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over his forehead with his right hand. "I couldn't sleep."

Alfred pressed his lips together, lowering himself into one of the chairs to better face the young boy.

"How long had you been here, Master Bruce?"

Arms wrapped loosely around his legs, Bruce shrugged. "I don't know."

Alfred looked down at the boy, his brow furrowed in consternation. _Had the young Master come down here right after his mother had put him to bed? No. Surely Mrs Wayne had looked upon the boy when she had retired upstairs._

Bruce shifted under Alfred's gaze, hugging the stuffed bear he had brought with him closer. "The thunder woke me up and I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Yes. It was a rather loud storm, sir."

Alfred remained silent after that, allowing the young Master to talk further of his own accord.

"I thought-" Bruce bit his lip, diverting his eyes away from Alfred's and saying softly. "I thought I could stay here and wait for Dad to come home."

Alfred suppressed a sigh, lest the perceptive young boy in front of him interpreted the act wrongfully. It was times such as these; when young Master Bruce sought his father's presence and comfort when the butler wished foolishly Master Wayne were not the fine and capable man he was.

"I'm afraid your father wouldn't be home in the nearest future, Master Bruce."

"I know." The boy whispered, ducking his head. "I just couldn't go back to sleep by myself."

"Sir, I dare say your mother would have-"

"No." Bruce gave Alfred a sheepish look for the interruption and murmured a quiet apologize. "When I couldn't sleep I went to mom and dad's room but Mom was already asleep. I didn't want to wake her so I came down here."

"I understand that, young sir, but you must also understand I cannot allow you to remain here at this late hour." Alfred paused for a moment, rising from the chair. "You must come out of there now, sir."

Bruce slowly crawled out from under the desk after a moment, stuffed bear clutched in one of his small hands.

The corner of Alfred's mouth twitched at the sight of the stuffed toy. The very first one purchased after Master Bruce's parents learned they would have a child. And one of the young boy's favorite too.

Bruce stood awkwardly in front of Alfred, his small form clad in light blue pajamas and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Come young sir, it is time to go back to bed." After a moment's hesitation, Alfred held out his hand for the young boy to take.

Bruce stood still for a second, blinking at the outstretched hand before hurrying to take it. He carefully kept his gaze down and away from Afred's.

The small hand was cold against his own, prompting the butler to give it a soft squeeze.

Bruce tightened his grip on Alfred's hand the more they approached the staircase, making him turn to look at the top of the boy's head. It wasn't at all difficult to imagine what had brought the small gesture.

Alfred cleared his throat. "I shall now escort you up to your room. If you don't mind, sir."

"I- No. I- I don't mind. Thank you, Alfred." Bruce mumbled, his stance dropping considerably.

Bruce didn't let go of Alfred's hand until they came into his room and the butler prompted him to climb into bed, tucking him in and making sure everything was as it was supposed to.

Alfred was about to bid the young boy good night when the sound of his name called in a soft voice from the bed stopped him.

"Yes, Master Bruce?"

"Can you-" Bruce stopped abruptly, running his fingers over the soft fabric of the comforter, eyes downcast. "Would you mind reading m some? It- It helps me fall asleep."

The hesitant and quiet request took Alfred by surprise, leaving him at a loss for words. Master Bruce had a natural love for books, even when at his young age his reading skills were still developing and, therefore, bedtime stories were highly special for him.

Alfred took a moment to cover his surprise before walking closer to the bed.

"Certainly, sir."

The little shy smile he received from the young boy was enough to pull an honest smile of his own in reply.

He took the book lying on the bedside table carefully and started reading.

**OoOoO**

* * *

**a/n: So yeah. I have zero acknowledge of British vocabulary (and let's be honest, my English isn't anywhere near perfect either. Non-native speaker here *waves*), let alone any clue of how a gentleman's gentleman must conduct himself other than what I've seen on the movies, so if you think my characterization of Alfred was total trash or have any piece of advice please, _please_ let me know so I can avoid further embarrassment and improve it or better stop trying to write Alfred. He's too awesome to be written badly :P**

**I already have a couple of ideas so please let me know if you'd like to read more and feel free to suggest prompts too. If I can come up with something good for them, I will write them :)**

**Also, this is unbetaed so please feel free to point out any mistake.**


	2. School Play

**************************************************Thank you so much to DetectiveAtWork for the first and only review so far. I honestly was not expecting a lot of response for the first chapter, but I can't deny I'm a bit sad about it. This chapter was already half written so that's why I'm posting it, but I would like to know if there's people enjoying this fic before I keep going, so if you like this please let me know!  
**

**************************************************Anyway, enjoy it and remember, any comment or criticism will be appreciated.**

* * *

**OoOoO**

**Chapter II: School Play.**

Alfred glanced at the rear view mirror at the little boy sitting in the back seat of the car, looking through the window. A small frown was set on his face and his lips were pressed together.

"Is something wrong, Master Bruce?"

Bruce turned his gaze toward the butler, lip caught between his teeth. He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, letting Alfred know something was indeed bothering the young sir.

Alfred nodded curtly knowing the young boy would talk if he truly wanted to, when he were ready. He just had to be patient.

They traveled in silence for more than ten minutes before Bruce spoke again.

"The school play is in a week."

"Certainly, sir." Alfred said after a moment, uncertain of what exactly had brought this up. "Are you nervous, perhaps?"

Dark brown hair flopped over Bruce's face as he shook his head. "Not really. I already know my lines and Rachel's been helping me practice them and the songs so I don't forget."

A small tight smile curled up the corners of Alfred's mouth. Every single person at Wayne Manor was aware of that, and had most likely learned Master Bruce's short lines and the cheerful Christmas songs too. Both children -Miss Rachel in particular- had take upon themselves to practice rather loudly all around the Manor ever since the young Master had received the lines and lyrics of the traditional holiday songs for the small school play.

It had not been so much a game as a requirement to ensure perfection for Master Bruce. Even if Miss Rachel had made it so.

The car fell silent as Bruce chewed his lower lip, fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.

"What if-" Bruce looked away from Alfred, even though the butler wasn't looking at him. At least not directly. "What if Mom and Dad can't be there?"

The words were spoken in a small, soft voice but Alfred heard them nevertheless.

Gentle and polite words of reassurance will not be of any aid to the young boy, Alfred knew it. Even at his young age Master Bruce had learned some time ago that his parents were essential pillars of Gotham society, even if to him, that principally meant his parents could not be with him the entire time.

"Sir, I assure you your parents will do everything they can to be there."

"I know that." Bruce stated, voice steady as he meet Alfred's gaze through the rearview mirror. "But what if Dad gets called away because there's an emergency at the hospital, and Aunt Elizabeth gets sick again and Mom had to go take care of her again or something?"

All Alfred could do was blink for a moment, stunned into silence by the boy's words.

"It is highly unlikely both your parents would be unable to attend, young sir."

Bruce shook his head adamantly. "That doesn't mean it can't happen." Hazel eyes softened, an uncertain glint in them. "There's gonna be lots of people in the school auditorium that day. Strange people."

Alfred waited patiently, knowing he was close to learning what the real issue was.

Bruce bit his lips again. "What if I get nervous and forget my lines? Mother and Father will be disappointed when they know."

"I can assure you, Master Bruce, they will do no such thing." Alfred said vehemently, meeting the boy's gaze with honest confidence.

Bruce dropped his gaze, not being reassured by Alfred's words in the least.

"I dare say you know young Mister Elliot's parents, sir." Alfred tried again after a moment, before adding almost at once, "Or are they not planning to attend?"

"Tommy's mom is going I think, but she's..." Bruce trailed off. His lips twitched into a slight grimace as he caught himself before saying something impolitic. "I don't think that would help, Alfred. She's kind of frightening."

The corners of the butler's lips twitched when he hear the quite suitable adjective, mentally applying it to Mr Elliot too.

The Elliot family was a peculiar one, indeed.

"I see."

Bruce was staring at the back of the butler's head with curious hazel eyes and his head tilted to the side.

Alfred considered what he was thinking very carefully before he spoke, meeting the young boy's gaze through the rearview mirror.

"If I may be so bold, sir. I am certain your parents will assist. And _if _an inconvenience were to occur, surely at least one of them would." The butler didn't miss the slight drop of small shoulders, but decided to ignore it in favor of concluding his argument. "But if you need further reassurance, sir, I can offer to attend if your mother and father cannot do so."

The boy in the backseat had gone very still, shining hazel eyes blinking.

"That is if you approve, of course sir."

"You would?" Bruce shook his head lightly."Its not- I mean, wouldn't it be boring to you, Alfred?"

Alfred allowed himself a small smile. "I don't imagine that will be a problem, young sir."

"I would really like that, Alfred." Bruce said after a moment, before adding in a soft, quiet voice, "Thank you."

**OoOoO**

* * *

**a/n: For this chapter I needed Bruce to have a rich friend and after looking around I found Tommy Elliot. I don't have much knowledge of the comics, but found enough info to know he and his family were, as Alfred said above, _peculiar_. Anyway, he may be mentioned further ahead, but I don't think he would make an appearance, since I don't know the character well enough to write him.**

**Also, I tried looking for extended family of the Waynes, but found nothing, so 'Aunt Elizabeth' was made up because I nedded one plausible reason why Bruce's mother might not attend.**

**Again, this is unbetaed and I'm not native speaker so feel free to point out any mistake you find!**


	3. Broken Vase

**Thank you so much to 3 Nightwing 3, the Guest, and especially ****IcyWaters **for their reviews on the last chapter, and those ******who added this story to his/her favorites or alerts**. **It _truly_ means a lot to me, and this chapter is dedicated especially for you.**  


******************Again, I don't owe ****The Dark Knight trilogy **or any of its characters, sadly.

* * *

**OoOoO**

**Chapter III: Broken Vase.**

Wayne Manor library was a large and beautiful place. With large luxurious mahogany bookcases crammed with priceless and enthralling book editions and comfortable yet elegant furnishing. Large windows on the far wall allowed sunlight to filter into the room and give a magnificent view of the garden.

The library was a favorite of the Waynes -even young Master Bruce- for a reason.

With efficiency improved over the years, Alfred dusted the bookcase set to the left of the fireplace, enjoying the quiet of the room. He run the black and white feather duster over one of the bottom shelf, all the while maintaining a critical eye to ensure the books were lined up neatly on the nearby shelves.

Alfred could perceive the faint vanilla scent antique books tended to emit as he worked around the room.

Finishing dusting the bookcase, the butler was about to move to the one on the right side of the fireplace when he hear a distinctive crashing sound just outside the library, followed by the sound of something shattering to pieces.

Alfred straightened immediately, placing the duster he had been using over a nearby table before walking to the door with a quick pace, eyebrows drew down in consternation.

The butler came to a stop just outside the library, surveying the scene before him.

Young Master Bruce sat on the floor, just a couple of feet away from where Alfred stood. He was surrounded by small fragments of a now broken vase. The same vase that had decorated the hallway only minutes ago. Alfred's eyes narrowed when he took notice of the two rather thick books on the floor too.

The butler was about to walk toward him when he caught a glimpse of one of the maids standing frozen at the end of the hallway, eyes wide and face pale. She meet Alfred's eyes, her gaze almost frightened but she made no attempt to move.

The staff of Wayne Manor counted with some of the most capable people in their respective areas, yet most of them struggled in some way when dealing with the young Wayne heir. Or perhaps, this time such reaction was due to the _very_ expensive shattered vase.

Alfred nodded to the young woman to retire, which she did a little too quickly with an awkward bow and a relieved look. The butler turned and promptly walked toward the motionless child.

"Master Bruce?" He called softly, watching down at young Master, who did not acknowledge his presence as he stood before him, eyes lowered to the floor.

Alfred crouched down, reaching a hand to place his fingers under the young boy's chin, gently lifting his head. "Are you alright, Master Bruce?"

Soft hazel eyes blinked at him from under tousled dark brown hair, as if the small boy hadn't heard or understood the question.

"Master Bruce," Alfred waited until some of the cloudy haze in the young boy's eyes began to fade before speaking. "Are you hurt, sir?"

Bruce shook his head after a moment. His gaze dropped to the floor again, looking at the small pieces of porcelain around him.

"Come along, Master Bruce," The butler said gently a moment later, offering a hand to the boy on the floor. "You should not stay amid this mess or else you might hurt yourself."

Bruce raised his head, looking at the outstretched hand and then up to Alfred's face. He chewed on his lip before finally reaching to grab it, avoiding Alfred's keen eyes.

Alfred noticed the little red stain on the floor, just below the place where Master Bruce's hand had been. He took the small wrist gently, turning it over to look at the palm and found a small cut just above the wrist.

"I thought you said you were not hurt, Master Bruce." Alfred said with a reproachful note in his voice.

Bruce looked down at the small cut on his hand, dark eyebrows knitted together. "I- I hadn't noticed it."

The butler nodded, slowly raising himself and the young Master to their feet. "Very well. We shall treat the wound immediately, sir."

Bruce was careful not to step on any of the broken pieces of porcelain on the floor as Alfred took his uninjured hand and lead him away.

Alfred guided him to the kitchen, feeling a peculiar sense of relief when he noticed the room was empty. He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and urged Master Bruce to sit on it.

"Stay here, young sir. I'll fetch the first aid kit."

Bruce nodded, watching Alfred walk away. He bit his lip, stopping himself from swinging his dangling feet.

It didn't take long for Alfred to come back, placing the first aid kit on the table and taking some of its content out. The butler called the small boy to come with him, pulling a chair over to the sink for him to stand on.

"It does not seem to be any fragments in the wound." Alfred said after he examined the cut more closely. He then pulled the small hand under the faucet, rinsing it with clear, warm water and cleaning the area around the cut with soap.

Bruce watched the process attentively, small dark eyebrows furrowed. It seemed to him like too much fuss for such small cut.

Alfred helped him climb down from the chair after rinsing the soap away and patting the wound carefully dry, then proceeded to dry his own hands. Bruce stood to the side, watching as Alfred put the chair back in its place before putting a hand on his shoulder and lead him back to where he had sat.

The butler took the nearest chair and sat down in it, facing the young boy. "Would you like to share what happened, sir?"

Bruce nodded almost imperceptibly, shifting his hazel eyes away from Alfred's gaze. Sensing the boy's hesitation Alfred turned his attention away, reaching for the small jar he had placed on the table.

"I- I was looking for you. I asked Mrs. Dawes and she told me you were working in the library."

Alfred noticed the formality in the young boy's words -a sure sign of his apprehension- but did not acknowledge it as he took the small hand, carefully applying a thin layer of antibiotic ointment.

Bruce winced, looking down at his hand cradled between Alfred's. "That's when I remembered Dad left some books in the den."

"I see." Alfred said quietly, letting go of the boy's hand to take the gauze he had pull out of the first aid kit.

"I just wanted to take them to the library and give them to you, but they were too heavy and one of them slipped down." Bruce kept his eyes on Alfred's hands, as he finished his explanation. "I tried to catch it, but I didn't see where I was going and bumped against the column with the vase in the hallway."

It wasn't until Alfred finished dressing the wound with the gauze that he looked up, meeting worried eyes.

"I understand your only intention was to aid me, Master Bruce, and I thank you for it. But I'm afraid your actions were ill-considered."

It was obvious the young boy was forcing himself to meet his eyes, so Alfred softened his expression as he continued. "Sometimes our intentions are the best, Master Bruce, but our way of proceeding is not. _That_ is the reason we must always think very thoughtfully before acting. Or else things might go amiss like they did now."

Alfred blinked, noticing the young boy's eyes filling with tears. Surely his words had not been too harsh... "Master Bruce?"

Bruce sniffed softly, keeping the tears from falling. "Mom loved that vase. And I broke it." He whimpered as a lone tear escaped, making his way down his cheek. "She will be mad at me."

Alfred allowed his lips to curve in a soft, fond smile. "Tell me Master Bruce, did you disobey your mother's order not to run inside the Manor?"

It was Bruce's turn to blink. Confused, he shook his head in denial after a moment.

"Were you playing when the incident took place, then?"

Another nonverbal negative and Alfred give the young boy a tiny, reassuring smile. "I cannot presume to know what Mrs. Wayne's reaction to this incident would be, Master Bruce, but considering the facts, I highly doubt she would find in good reason to be 'mad at you.' I'm sure your mother would be more concerned about your injury, instead."

Bruce's eyebrows knitted together. "But I broke the vase."

"Indeed you did, Master Bruce, but it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. And while it may have been occasioned due to an error on your part, it is not entirely your fault." Alfred stressed his words, relieved the young boy seemed to be listening. "You were not breaking the house's rules, but rather were trying to be helpful."

Bruce still didn't seem entirely convinced but he nodded at Alfred's words, looking down at the small white dressing on his palm.

Alfred nodded curtly, knowing there was nothing more he could do to erase the boy's apprehension. Only Mrs Wayne could now. He stood from the chair, starting to gather the supplies back into the first aid kit.

"Alfred?" A small voice called making the butler raise his head, watching the young boy's bandaged hand lifted. "Thank you."

"You are quite welcome, young sir."

**OoOoO**

* * *

**a/n: Sorry about the long wait between chapters, but I had a bit of troubles with this. *sigh* I promise the next on would be up sooner, and would have Alfred and Bruce alone at the Manor, with Alfred struggling a bit to comfort Bruce, making for a very cute imagen, I think. **

**Any comments, corrections or constructive criticism would be very much appreciated, since as I'm sure you all know by now, this is unbetaed I'm not native speaker : )**


	4. Nightmare

**Thank you so much to anyone still reading! I know my updates aren't as frequent as you and myself would like, so thanks for stick with me. I do hope to post a new chapter once a month**** at the very least, so stay tuned guys! **

******And w********************************************************ithout further delay here's the new chapter. Enjoy and remember any comment, criticism or correction will be appreciated since this fic is ********unbetaed**.

* * *

**OoOoO**

**Chapter IV: Nightmare. **

Alfred turned yet another page in the book he was reading, sitting at the small desk by the window. At the moment, he was in the room young Master Bruce referred to as Alfred's, much to the butler's dismay.

The room did not belong to him, of course. Alfred's quarters were located far from the master and guest bedrooms. The room he was currently in was the closest to the young Master's room -in addition to the Master bedroom, located to the other side of Master Bruce's- as he had been assigned to do when Mrs and Mr Wayne had to leave the Manor after Master Bruce's bedtime.

The bed was neatly made and untouched, just like it always stayed whenever Alfred used the room. The butler had never even sat on it, much less sleep as the Waynes had suggested more than a couple of times. Alfred had also been expressly told he wasn't expected to stay awake until the Waynes' return. That, of course, hadn't stopped him from doing so. He went down to meet them at the door every time and only then did he went back to his quarter and prepared to go to sleep. That was how it supposed to be. It was _his_ duty.

The soft sound of the grandfather clock chiming midnight could be heard as Alfred placed a bookmark in between the pages before closing the book and placing it on the desk. Alfred stood up from the chair, straightening the jacket of his suit before walking to the tall windows overlooking the garden and, further away, the driveway. He pulled away the curtain, looking through the window.

Alfred was still standing there a few minutes later when he heard a small, muffled noise. The butler straightened, moving away from the window, his eyebrows drawn together. He was not sure what the sound had been, but he hurried to go to the room next door and ensure the young Master was well and asleep.

The butler had just turned the knob, pulling the door of Master Bruce's room open when he heard the noise again. A soft, muffled groan. Alfred stepped inside, the soft light coming from the hallway behind him providing enough light for him to watch the small form tossing under the covers. A small whisper escaped the young boy's mouth, prompting Alfred to continue his way to the boy's bedside.

"Master Bruce." The butler called softly, shaking the small shoulder gently. The frown in the boy's face deepened further, but there was no other reaction. Alfred shook him more firmly. "Wake up, young sir."

Bleary hazel eyes shot open and Bruce struggled to sit up, breathing heavily with his legs tangled in the sheets.

"It's all right, Master Bruce. You had a bad dream." Alfred hesitated only for a moment before reaching out to brush sweaty locks of dark hair away from the boy's forehead. He then proceeded to straighten the sheets. "You are awake now."

Bruce rubbed his eyes with a hand, the other hugging the stuffed bear he had been sleeping with closer to his body as he sat up. "Where's Mom?"

"I'm afraid your parents have not yet returned, sir." Bruce blinked confusedly at him, so Alfred added, "The fundraiser for the Police Department was taking place tonight. Do you remember?"

Small, dark eyebrows knitted together and after a moment Bruce nodded, sighing softly and letting his shoulders slump slightly.

Alfred straightened, shifting almost imperceptibly where he stood. He knew the young Master had nightmares occasionally, of course, but had not yt been in a position to act upon them, so he was at a loss as to what exactly he should do now.

Bruce's breath had slowed down back to a normal rhythm as he sat quietly, stuffed bear still hugged close to his chest. Alfred cleared his throat, making him lift his eyes.

"Perhaps you would like some warm milk, sir."

Bruce blinked up at him. "Yes. Yes, please."

Alfred refrained from sighing in relief, giving a curt nod instead. "Very well. I shall-"

"Wait!"

The shout stooped Alfred just as the butler had started to turn around to leave the room. He meet wide hazel eyes form under tousled dark hair.

"I... sorry. I just-" Bruce chewed his lower lip, gaze not quite meeting Alfred's. "Can I come with you? _Please_."

Alfred smiled kindly at the boy. "Of course you can, Master Bruce."

Bruce gave Alfred a tiny smile before swing his legs over the edge of the bed and slip his feet into a pair of slippers. He stood, reaching back for the stuffed bear on the bed.

The small boy came to stand besides him, reaching over and sliding his hand into Alfred's as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Closing his fingers around the small hand, the butler had to acknowledge to a certain fondness at the small gesture. He smiled down at the top of dark-haired boy's head.

They walked through the hallway and down the stairs at a quiet pace, the soft sound of their footsteps the only noise heard.

Alfred turned on the light switch as they stepped into the kitchen, making Bruce blink at the sudden light before his eyes adjusted and he looked around. It was strange, seeing the commonly busy and sometimes even chaotic kitchen so quiet and empty.

"Wait here, young sir. I shall get your milk."

Bruce nodded, even though Alfred's back was already turned as he walked toward the fridge to pull out the milk. He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and climbed into it, placing his stuffed bear over his lap. He watched Alfred move round the kitchen, heating the milk on the stove and then pouring it into two glasses.

The butler turned around, bringing the glasses to the table and sliding one of them toward Bruce. "Be careful, sir. It is quite warm."

"Thanks, Alfred." Bruce hesitated a moment before placing his bear in the chair next to his, and only then did he carefully reach for the glass, cradling it between his hands.

Alfred did not sat down, instead walking back to the counter and coming back with a small plate with two chocolate chip cookies that he placed in front of the young boy.

Bruce blinked down at the plate before looking at Alfred with curious hazel eyes. "I'm supposed to eat cookies so late."

"I think we can make an exception this time, Master Bruce." The butler replied as he sat down in the chair to the young boy's side.

A small smile curled Bruce's lips as he reached for one of the cookies, stopping just as he was about to take a bite. He looked down at the remaining cookie before pushing the plate toward Alfred.

"You can eat one if you want." Bruce said, shrugging at the look Alfred was giving him.

"Thank you, young sir." The butler said after a moment, reaching for the cookie and taking a small bite.

It wasn't until all that was left of the cookies were crumbs and almost half of the milk was gone from the glasses that Alfred talked again.

"Master Bruce," The butler waited until Bruce meet his gaze. "Would you like to talk about the dream you had, sir?"

Bruce's small frame stiffened, eyes flickering away as he shook his head in denial.

"Very well, sir." Alfred murmured, noticing the small boy looking at him warily out of the corner of his eye. He, of course, would have rather the young Master had agree to talk, even if he was not sure what he would have replied had he done so.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the sound of their breath and the faint hum of the fridge the only noise in the kitchen. Bruce's slim shoulders relaxed little by little until he was completely at ease, taking comfort from Alfred's silence and secure presence at his side.

Alfred wasn't sure how much time had passed when the faint sound of the lock on the front door rattled briefly, drawing his attention.

"I believe your parents have returned, Master Bruce."

The young boy was out of his chair and running out kitchen even before Alfred finished speaking, making the butler shake his head, smiling as the small back disappeared from sight. He stood up, taking the forgotten stuffed bear with him as he followed the young Master's steps at a more sedated pace.

Alfred still had not reached the foyer when he heard the faint sound of Mrs Wayne's surprised voice asking her son why was he awake. He did not hear a reply from the young boy, but perhaps it had been too low.

"Madam, sir." The butler greeted the couple standing in the foyer as he walked to Mrs Wayne's side to help her out of her coat. Master Bruce was in his father's arms, his small dark head resting on Mr Wayne' shoulder.

"Alfred." Thomas greeted him with a nod, while Martha murmured a thank you, giving Alfred a consternated look; an unspoken question in the woman's eyes.

The butler bowed slightly, taking the coat and draping it over his arm. "Master Bruce was _accompanying_ me in the kitchen. Were you not, sir?"

Bruce turned his head, blinking at Alfred before nodding softly against his father's shoulder.

Martha smiled, reaching out to ruffle her son's dark hair affectionately. "Well, little man. I think it's time for you to go back to bed now."

"Why don't you say good night to Alfred, son?" Thomas murmured against the boy's forehead before dropping a kiss.

"Night, Alfred." Bruce murmured, head lifted slightly.

"Good night, Master Bruce. But I do believe you are forgetting something, sir." Alfred said, lifting the stuffed bear to the young boy's line of sight.

Bruce reached for the bear immediately, hugging it to his body. Soft hazel eyes meet Alfred's gaze. "Thank you, Alfred."

"You're quite welcome, young sir." The butler bowed, turning to the boy's parents. "Good night, madam, sir."

The Waynes bid Alfred good night before slowly walking up the stairs together, the soft murmure of their voices as they talked to their son fading as they moved farther away.

Alfred stood at the bottom of the stairs until the small family was out of sight.

**OoOoO**

* * *

**a/n:** **Please let me know what you think! This chapter marks the first apparition of Bruce's parents, and I can tell you they would be coming back in the next chapter :) **


End file.
